


Fumes

by nitration



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Adventure, Angst, Multi, Suspense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-25
Updated: 2016-08-27
Packaged: 2018-08-10 23:39:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7865962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nitration/pseuds/nitration
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You said your husband was killed in a house fire," Rick said, wiping the tears from Ana's eyes. She was staring at the ground, trying to ignore the knot rising in her throat. "Negan was upstairs…he was asleep," her voice was choked, and with her head facing down she couldn't tell how Rick's face had gone from caring, to horrified. Rick/OC Negan/OC</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

1.

Ana Sanchez arrived at Alexandria wearing little more than an assortment of dirty, bloody rags. Her weapons were nonexistent, save for a small pocket knife that she held onto at all times. Her black hair was matted against her bony olive cheeks; her hair was coated in a thick layer dried blood and grease. Her eyes appeared sunken and tired.

She came across the gate after a few days of traveling on her own. It was reluctantly opened by a tall man holding a rather large gun in his arms. Ana eyed the weapon cautiously and raised her hands in defense. The man raised the gun until it was pointing directly at Ana's small head. Her heart rate quickened as she stared down the barrel.

"Who is this?" a soft voice came from inside the gate. The man lowered the gun quickly and turned around. Ana peered inside, seeing a small blonde woman who was in her late sixties. She had a kind smile plastered across her face, and advanced towards Ana as soon as the two made eye contact.

"Ana Sanchez," Ana said politely, reaching out her hand to meet the woman's. Her hand was warm and welcoming.

"Deanna," the woman said in response. "Spencer, you can keep the gun lowered."

"Mom, we don't know who she is," the man named Spencer spoke up. His voice was smooth.

"I don't want to hurt anyone," Ana said. She quickly fiddled with the knife in her hand and handed it towards Deanna. "This is my only weapon." After days of being alone in the wild without food, Ana would take whatever came her way. Although…this might have not been her smartest decision. She let her eyes slide over the view of the community inside the gate. Many houses were built along cleared streets. Kids played outside in freshly grown grass. A short-lived feeling of confusion rushed through her aching bones.

"Welcome to Alexandria," Deanna said in a happy tone. Ana wondered how people harbored such a happy voice anymore. Nonetheless, she forced a smile.

"What is this place?" she questioned. Deanna sighed in response but continued smiling.

"Why don't you come on in first? I'll have you seated, you can have some food and water."

Ana mumbled a quick thank you and followed Deanna through the gates. An air of calm set in as she entered the compound. Was it safe to call it a compound? She followed the shorter blonde to a decent sized house situated on a large plot of land. As Deanna opened the front to the house, Ana noticed groups of people peering from windows across the street, and a few of the kids that were playing were now watching her. She crossed her arms quietly and headed into the house.

Deanna seated Ana onto a hard wooden chair. She instantly felt regret as she looked down at the floor and noticed all the mud she trekked into the house.

"I'm sorry about the mud," Ana offered an apology as Deanna walked towards the sink, grabbing a glass and turning the faucet on. Ana quieted as soon as she saw the running water. How…

Deanna turned the sink off and sat on a comfy couch across from Ana. She handed Ana the glass of water as she lowered herself onto the cushions.

Ana desperately brought the glass to her lips and gulped down the water. "How did you get running water?"

Deanna laughed. "We have our ways. That's something we can discuss later, but for now-" Deanna groaned lightly as she stretched her arm towards a camera sitting on a tripod. Ana hadn't noticed it previously, but the idea of her being recorded made her rather uncomfortable.

"Don't worry, it's just for future reference. Now, could you state your name for the record?" Deanna questioned.

Ana's eyes darted around the beautiful house. Sunlight poured through the windows behind her head, heating her back and her neck. She nervously reached for her hair, twirling it in her fingers.

"Ana Sanchez," she said.

"How long have you been out there?" Deanna pushed.

Ana sighed, trying to think of the very beginning. "Since the beginning, I suppose."

Deanna raised her eyebrows. "And is it just you? Or do you have a group."

"Had a group," Ana smiled with sad eyes, "Actually a family."

"What happened?"

"A fire," Ana's eyes hardened as she took a deep breath, moving her nervous hands to her lap.

"I'm sorry."

Ana offered the smallest hint of a smile at Deanna's condolences. She shifted in her seat a bit, crossing one leg over the other.

"You don't seem very talkative now, I get that." Deanna leaned forward on the couch. "I'll have someone show you your house and you can get settled. There will be a small get-together tonight."

"Okay," Ana whispered, rubbing her arms in order to comfort herself. She stood up as soon as Deanna did, and followed Deanna to the front door. Before opening it, Deanna handed Ana her knife back.

"We don't let our people hold onto guns…but we have had a few walker incidents recently."

Ana took her knife and slid it into its holder. Deanna opened the door, allowing Ana to walk out into a small crowd of people anxiously waiting outside. All of their faces were clean, well-shaven, and sophisticated. Their clothes were intact, their hair was shiny and healthy.

"Aaron, show Ana her house. Next to Rick's," Deanna called to a young man in the crowd. He instantly left the group and climbed up the small steps onto the porch, smiling as he introduced himself.

"Aaron," he said, shaking Ana's hands. She reciprocated her introduction and then followed him. The small crowd was hushed as the observed Ana's dirty clothes and face. As soon as Ana was out of earshot, they began started asking Deanna questions. Aaron noticed Ana glancing over her shoulder constantly, trying to figure out what they were saying.

"They're curious as to who you are," Aaron explained in a calm tone. His navy blue jacket blew lightly from the wind, hitting Ana's side as he led her to her new house. "We just lost a large group of people. I'm sure they're simply concerned about how trustworthy you are." Ana nodded in response, looking forward again and glancing at the rows of huge houses that crowded one block. They reminded her of houses she constantly admired along the boardwalk in New Jersey. After a minute or two of walking, Ana and Aaron came across a large two-storied grey house with a magnificent layout.

"This is where you'll be staying," Aaron informed Ana. She couldn't help the small smile that crept onto her lips. She would be staying in the house that resembled her dream home. She walked to the curb, placing her hands on her hips and squinting as she observed the architecture.

"Thank you," was all she could manage.

The soft sound of a front door closing brought Ana's attention away from the house. She gazed two houses down, at a man in a dark brown shirt and jeans who was staring straight back at her. He quickly descended the stairs of his porch and marched angrily in her direction. His stride was long and calculated, his feet smacking on the pavement with some sort of quieted rage. Ana crossed her arms and looked down at her feet, hoping to stay out of this ensuing fight.

"Who is this?" the man said when he was within earshot. His voice was raspy with a hint of a Southern accent. Ana refused to raise her eyes to his level and instead took a step behind Aaron. Aaron forced a small smile and gestured to the woman.

"This is Ana Sanchez, newest member of Alexandria," he informed the fuming man.

"And you're inviting new people in here without telling me? What if she came to kill us all?"

Ana furrowed her brow and closed her eyes. She knew Southerners were judgmental but…

"You can talk to her all you want, just let her get settled," Aaron pleaded.

"I'd like to talk to her before she gets settled."

A hand shot out and grabbed Ana's wrist. The man's hand pulled her wrist away from her chest and towards him. He hauled her away from Aaron, his feet slamming on the pavement as she was basically dragged towards his house.

"Rick!" Ana heard Aaron call. She looked over his shoulder at Aaron. He stood stagnant, his feet mounted in place as he called for Ana's return.

"Tell Deanna I'll be at her house in an hour," the man called Rick shouted in Aaron's direction. His calloused fingers held onto Ana's wrist with force, with anger. He led Ana up the stairs to his house, and flung open the door. Fresh, cool air greeted her face as did an array of faces sitting in the living room. Their eyes instantly drifted in her direction. One woman with short gray hair stood up from her seat amongst the others and walked towards the front door.

"Rick, who is this?"

Despite her words, Rick continued dragging Ana towards a staircase, muttering something about informing the group later. As Ana was dragged from the bottom stair to the top, her wrist started throbbing. Rick's grip was getting tighter as he led her around the corner to a bedroom. At once, he let go of her wrist and shoved her in the direction of a patterned sofa. It resided in the corner of the large bedroom, facing the king sized bed. Rick closed the door behind him, swiftly locking it and removing a knife from his waistband. Ana fell on the sofa and reached for her wrist, rubbing away the red hand marks.

"Who are you?" Rick demanded, raising his knife and approaching her.

She raised her hands above her head as she informed him of her name for the second time. "Ana Sanchez."

"I know that," Rick muttered. "Your best bet of getting out of here is by not being a smart ass. Are you alone?"

"Yes!" Ana shouted in fear, curling into a ball on the sofa. "I'm alone, there's no one else."

"How did you get here?"

"I-" Ana stuttered in fear.

"I said how did you get here!"

"I came upon the wall while looking for food. Please don't hurt me, I don't mean any trouble," Ana begged.

"I can tell," Rick lowered his knife and took a seat on the edge of a bed. It caved under his weight. He placed his hands on his lap and looked at the girl.

Ana placed her hands down as she uncurled her body and got a good look at Rick. He was squinting in her direction, his blue eyes quickly running over her tired body. They paused when they saw the knife at her waist. Ana slowly reached for it, removed it from its holster and tossed it on the floor. Rick retrieved it, making eye contact with Ana. His eyes were terrifying, cold and distant. He quickly placed the knife next to him on the bed and ran his hand through his dark brown hair.

"This place is my family. Hurt them, I hurt you," Rick threatened, boring a hole into Ana's eyes. She nodded in response.

"I need to have a talk with Deanna. You can go back to your house." In a second, Rick had unlocked the door and left the room. Ana sat speechless for a moment or two. Is this what a safe haven looked like?


	2. Chapter 2

2.

Warm, bloody water trailed from Ana's tanned legs down the drain in the center of the shower. She turned around and allowed clear water to trickle onto her face. Her hands ran through her hair, unknotting strands as they went. Ana had been in the shower for well over an hour as the shower offered considerable warmth, but also because her body was completed covered in muck. The air around her and even the shower door was painted with condensation. Ana realized that more steam meant a warmer environment to step out into until she found clean clothes.

Her new house consisted of four bedrooms and three baths. The three bedrooms on the second floor had closets filled with various clothes in different sizes. Ana's best bet was finding something to wear amongst those closets. The kitchen on the first floor was already filled with pastas and cans of vegetables. She hadn't scoured the entire kitchen and assumed more snacks awaited behind closed cabinets.

So, after Ana's shower, she scavenged the closets and came across a pair of black jeans and a long black v-neck. The jeans were one size too big, however, after tucking the shirt into her waistband, Ana found that it fit perfectly. She wouldn't have a bra until she washed her own, but decided it wouldn't be a big deal. Ana headed downstairs where she was met with a pile of dirty clothes and her trusty knife. She slid the knife into her waistband, ignoring the holster. Then, she took her pile of clothes and placed it by the front door as a reminder to ask Deanna how to do laundry; she wasn't sure if the washer machines were functional, or if they preferred using a more natural source of water.

Ana was about to grab something to eat when she reminded herself of the small get-together later on. Casting a look outside, she saw that the light was diminishing. If she ate now, eating at the party would make her sick. If she refused food, she might be seen as rude. Instead, Ana walked to a white sofa that resided in the middle of the living room. She sat down, resting her head against the headrest and observing the room. Small paintings were hung around a large flat screen TV. There was no remote in sight, so Ana figured that cable had gone to shit along with everything else. There was a small collection of books underneath the glass coffee table in front of the sofa. Most of them seemed to be classics such as 1984 and Of Mice and Men. After scanning through the titles, Ana reached under the table and picked out The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. She quickly read the back summary, then opened to the front page and began to read.

It didn't seem like long before a knock on the front door of the house brought the book down from Ana's eyes. She hadn't noticed how dim the room was. There was just enough light to make out the words on the page. The knock came again, bidding Ana to raise from the sofa and make her way towards the door. She opened it and squinted at Spencer's familiar face.

"Hello," Spencer said, giving her the once-over. She did the same, noticing he changed into a nice dark blue shirt with a pair of jeans. "Deanna wanted me to see how you were settling."

Ana nodded, moving out of the doorway so he could enter. He glanced down at the pile of clothes next to the door.

"I didn't know where you did wash," she explained quickly. Spencer chuckled lightly.

"I'll take care of it." He leaned down, about to pick them up when Ana placed her hand on his arm.

"I don't want to get that shirt dirty," she admitted. "My clothes are soaked with mud."

Spencer stood up as Ana lowered her arm. "I'll come get them after the party then." He widened his eyes as if he realized something he had forgotten. "That's right! The party. My mom wanted me to come get you for that as well."

After a look of uneasiness crossed Ana's face, Spencer continued speaking. "Don't worry, it won't last too long. There's another meeting tonight that'll probably cut the party's time in half."

Ana forced a small smile. "I'm ready whenever," she said. Despite her words, Ana despised get-togethers and preferred to stay indoors. She wasn't about to be rude to her new saviors, and decided to get over herself in a quick moment.

"Alright," Spencer beamed, gesturing for Ana to exit the house. As she did, Spencer closed the door behind her and began leading her back to Deanna's house.

Despite the setting sun, it was still humid outside. The heat killed Ana's energy and hurt her head. Luckily Deanna's house was a short distance away, and the fans inside instantly cooled her body to a comfortable temperature.

The house wasn't as crowded as Ana assumed it would be. Whereas she imagined a large crowd of fifty people, there were only about twenty. Of them she recognized Deanna, Aaron, and Rick. Deanna stood near Rick, who was conversing with a young blonde woman and chuckling at almost everything she said. His face was covered in a series of white bandages that stood out like a sore thumb. Aaron stood near another male, who was chatting with him and offering him a glass of wine. Most of the new faces turned their heads as soon as Ana came through the front door with Spencer. Deanna noticed her entrance as well and was instantly at her side, introducing her to the crowd.

"This is our new community member, Ana Sanchez." Deanna then went about introducing to Ana to the various faces, including her husband, Reg and Aaron's boyfriend, Eric. Ana was also introduced to the gray haired woman in Rick's house, Carol. She was taught that the girl Rick was talking to was named Jesse, and she had two sons.

After all the introductions were said and done, Ana retreated to the corner of a room with a glass of wine. She leaned against a wall and observed the crowd as they chatted amongst themselves. A lot of them seemed joyous and happy. The whole situation felt weird, since they were in the middle of an apocalypse. The world went to shit and people were still able to smile and raise a few.

The sun set soon after, and Ana decided it was an appropriate time to leave. She had observed a few other people return home, and figured that her leaving wouldn't be a strain. Spencer was in the middle of a deep conversation with his parents and a few other neighbors; Ana figured he could come get the laundry tomorrow. On her way out, she placed her wine glass on a counter next to the sink in the kitchen.

Luckily the humidity levels lowered in the few hours Ana was in the house. While it was still hot out, it was more bearable. A small breeze blew through Ana's hair as she glanced around the neighborhood. Shadows fell across the roads, taking the shapes of objects that did not resemble the trees casting them. She heard a few footsteps around the corner of a house, and in response removed the knife from her waistband. She remembered Deanna's warning about previous walker incidents. Ana slowed her breath, taking a few quiet footsteps as she rounded the corner of the house.

She was surprised when she came face to face with the same terrifying blue eyes from earlier that day. Rick held a knife up to her face as he pinned her against the wall of the house. In a quick moment, he realized it was Ana and let her go, lowering the knife. In the few seconds it took for his actions to unfold, Ana hadn't so much as breathed. When she realized what happened, she slid her knife into its holding place and pursed her lips.

"I'm sorry," Rick whispered in a low voice. "Things have been happening lately, we're all a little on edge."

"So everyone who comes from Deanna's house, you assume they're one of those things?" Ana questioned, her voice equally as quiet. She brought her hand to the back of her head, scratching it lightly.

"Most people make more sound than you do. They don't travel alone at night."

Ana wasn't sure how to reply, and remained silent. She was curious about the bandages, but figured now was not a good time to ask what happened. Rick sighed and placed his hands on his hips. Eventually, he opened his mouth again.

"You should get home. It's late." His voice was louder this time.

Ana nodded in agreement. "I should," she said. Without another word, she walked past Rick with a quickened pace.

Rick looked over his shoulder at the new girl after a few moments, making sure she was walking in the correct direction. 

Ana's house was dark, although she had no problem with it. Her eyes were tired and her body exhausted from keeping a façade at the get-together. She trudged through the house, using only the moonlight to guide her. She slipped once on the stairs, managing to bang her knee without doing too much harm. Ana gasped in pain but picked herself up and continued up the stairs. Once she made it to the top, she remembered that there was a bedroom downstairs. She mentally scolded herself and entered the first bedroom she could find.

The bed was large, at least a king, with a white duvet cover and an assortment of small colorful pillows. There was another small array of books on an end table next to the bed. Ana paid them no mind, telling herself she would read in the morning. She climbed onto the soft bed and quickly crawled under the covers. It wasn't long before she met her long lost love; sleep.

A couple of hours passed. Ana woke in the middle of the night, unsure why but she remained cautious. She wasn't one to wake easily. Minutes passed and Ana listened to the rhythm of her breathing before an unearthly sound floated throughout the community. Someone was screaming, letting loose a series of gut-wrenching cries. Following the cries, Ana heard shouting, a gunshot, and then silence.


	3. Chapter 3

3. 

 

_Two months later_

 

Ana woke about an hour after she fell asleep; she woke along with the sun, grabbing a pillow from her dirty bed and heading out to the porch to watch the sun rise. Ana figured that she needed to wash the sheets eventually, but for now using a different bedroom every two weeks worked. She was wearing her clothes from the previous day, a brown t-shirt and pair of jean shorts. The air was chilly, and cooled her face as she placed her pillow on a stair and sat on it. The community was quiet, although after the death of more than thirty members she hadn’t expected any less. A few Alexandrians were already outside, making reparations as soon as possible. They were worried another attack was inevitable.

Ana looked at her hands, twirling her knife between her fingers. She tried to be of more help during the initial invasion of walkers. She had lost count of how many she killed, although it seemed like a million.

Ana blinked and memories of Deanna’s death flooded to the surface. She shook her head in pain and opened her eyes. A small tear ran down her cheek as she looked towards the sky. She placed the knife down on the porch and wrapped her arms around herself as a way to give herself a hug. Everyone she enjoyed talking to was dying…Jeff, Sandra, Colin.

The sun was offering its first hint of itself as the clock struck six. A laugh brought her attention away from her sadness. A few doors down from Ana’s house, Carl was sitting in the grass with Judith. His eye was still bandaged from Ron’s assault, although the kid seemed to be getting over it. Judith was crawling around in the grass, pulling at the pieces of green and shoving them towards her mouth. Carl was laughing as he pulled the grass away from her lips. Soon, Rick exited the house alongside Michonne. They usually left the house together in the morning. Ana figured there was something going on between them, but kept the information to herself.

Rick’s eyes drifted over Carl, Judith and then looked to the side at Ana. She kept his attention for a moment, observing how his posture changed upon the connection.

Ana didn’t like Rick. His eyes haunted her. Sometimes it seemed as if he was too impulsive in his decisions, thought too much about the good of his original group than the good of Alexandria. They barely talked to each other, and the rare occurrences where they were forced to talk winded up with an awkward silence that had Ana wishing she hadn’t spoken.

Ana broke eye contact after she became uneasy. She instead looked up at the sky again. Clouds were drifting over Alexandria, and she had fun picking patterns and animals out of them. Time passed and the sun rose. Instead of moving back inside, Ana continued observing the community while it came back to life. She watched as Sasha left her house to resume watching the walls, watched as Daryl patrolled around the community with his crossbow strapped across his back, watched as Carl handed Judith to Carol and bounded off to find Enid. After that, the road was quiet for a long time. Ana heard conversations off in the distance, but she couldn’t decipher what the people were saying, or who was saying what. Finally bored of her venture outside, she stood up, grabbed her pillow and turned towards her door.

“Ana.”

Ana reluctantly turned around. Rick stood at her steps, hand on his gun. She placed the pillow down on the porch and walked down the steps, stopping on the second to last one in order to gain a height advantage over the intimidating man.  She glanced up and down the street, curious as to where he came from. She noticed that Carol had stepped into the house, and that Aaron seemed to be exiting his house alongside Eric. There seemed to be no clear path that Rick took, so she dropped that question. Instead, she focused on the reason he came to talk to her. He rarely did.

Rick allowed his stubble and hair to grow out a bit. Ana knew that Jesse cut his hair but she figured that he hadn’t been able to find another stylist since she died.

“You came upon this place while exploring out there,” Rick said. Ana nodded. “D’you ever see any homes, or stores? Any place that might have supplies or food?”

Ana frowned in thought. Before she stumbled upon Alexandria, she was living in a small cabin that had a minimal food supply. Most days she hunted for a squirrel or rabbit to eat. However, she remembered there were a couple of medical supplies, books, and cans of food stashed in a bag under the floorboards.

“I stayed in a cabin-“

“Where?” Rick interrupted. Ana glared down at the man, taking a breath before continuing.

“In the middle of woods or something, I can’t describe how to get there.”

“Could you show us?”

“Who’s us?”

“Me, Daryl,” Rick began.

“When?” Ana asked.

“About now would be a good time. Starting to get low on food…people are worrying.”

Ana mulled over the idea for a few moments. Perhaps Rick was actually starting to trust her. If she said no, the trust would curl up and die. If she said yes, she might lead them in the wrong direction. Thus coming to the same conclusion. She placed her hand on her chin, debating over the options. If she lead them in the wrong direction, she could always explain her bad memory. If Rick didn’t believe her, maybe she would be shoved out of the car. Forgotten.

Maybe it was best to not put herself in that situation at all.

“I need an answer,” Rick said, cocking his head to the side.

“I-I’m not positive on it’s l-loc-location,” she starting stuttering, which she had a habit of doing when placed in tense situations. Rick audibly exhaled, obviously in frustration. He pondered over his choice of words as Ana stared nervously at him. Eventually he nodded his head, parting his lips to speak.

“That’s…that’s fine. Look, Daryl will drop us off as the closest point. He’ll continue on for a few miles or so, see if he finds anything. You’ll show me to the cabin.”

It seemed like a sound plan, although Ana worried about letting the group down. “And if we find it?” she asked. “How will you tell Daryl to come get us?”

Rick pointed to the walkie-talkie attached to his belt. He reached for it, pressed a button and mumbled a string of words into it.

“Oh,” Ana said quietly. For a moment, she stared down at her bare feet.

“We should get going,” Rick ultimately said. Ana acknowledged his words by continuing down the steps of the porch. Her head went below Rick’s nose as her feet hit the pavement.

Wait...shoes.

Without saying anything, Ana quickly ran inside the house and grabbed a pair of sneakers, slipping them on without any socks. As a kid, her mother scolded her for not wearing socks. The shoes began to stink twice as fast, which wore a hole in her mother’s wallet. Her mother was dead now, and Ana was used to smelling bad.

Rick was still waiting outside, his eyes landing on the pair of mud ridden sneakers on Ana’s feet. Ana hurried down the steps and Rick started walking forward. They walked in silence, mostly because Ana had nothing to say in fear of offending Rick or embarrassing herself. It seemed as if Rick had no problem with it. He respected the lack of conversation, actually enjoyed being able to walk quietly next to someone.

Waiting at the front gate of Alexandria was Daryl Dixon, wearing his normal biker’s jacket. His hair was hanging in his face, dirt caked into every wrinkle. He was altogether dirty, although he still bore a strikingly handsome complexion. Ana had only had one or two conversations with him, most of the time because she was curious about what situation the group was in. He was nice enough, but was never able to hold a meaningful conversation with the girl.

“Y’guys ready?” he asked, slinging his crossbow across his back and placing his walkie-talkie onto his pants. Rick nodded and placed a hand on the small of Ana’s back, pushing her in the direction of a black Chrysler. She instantly picked up her pace, feeling uncomfortable with the gesture. As soon as she was going in the right direction, and Rick removed her hand, her body eased itself. She opened the back door of the car and slid in, her legs instantly burning as they touched the hot leather seats. Daryl sat in the passenger seat and Rick took the driver’s seat. It felt a bit odd sitting in the back seat of a car for the first time in a year or so. Her legs were scrunched towards her torso due to Daryl’s seat being pushed back to its limit. Ana didn’t feel like complaining, and adjusted her body until she was in a comfortable position.

Eugene had been waiting patiently next to the gate. As soon as Rick put the car into drive, he slid the gate open and allowed them to exit. Ana heard the gate crash shut as soon as they were outside the walls. She also heard the growls of a walker that collided with a wooden spear jammed into a run-down car’s window. Her eyes followed it as the car advanced down the road. It disappeared a minute later along with the rest of Alexandria. Ana turned her head forward and tried to pay attention to surroundings. It was important that she pointed out a familiar place.

They came upon the familiar place precisely 20 minutes later.

“Here!” Ana said. Rick instantly stepped on the brakes, sending Ana’s face into Daryl’s seat. “Sorry,” she apologized, rubbing her injured forehead.

“No ‘m sorry,” Daryl replied, reaching to the side of his seat. It started to inch forward. “Forgot my manners.”

Ana smiled, despite her head. Rick looked back at her.

“Is this the place?” he asked.

Ana nodded, reaching for the car door.

“Stay in the car,” Rick said, pausing her action as he exited the car with his gun in his hands. Daryl followed suit as they observed the area. It was then that Ana realized how unprepared she was. She had no gun, no weapon besides her handy-dandy knife although she was starting to doubt the knife’s integrity if multiple walkers attacked her at once. Though, having Rick around made her feel safer. He had been able to take down more walkers than she had ever seen someone do. And he did it alone.

Rick opened the car door since he deemed the immediate surrounding environment as safe. “Come on,” he told Ana, stepping away from the car door as Daryl entered the driver’s seat.

“See ya soon, short stack,” he said to Ana. Ana’s heart lightened at the small nickname. With ease, she pushed open the car door and stepped onto smooth asphalt. Rick was squinting at the sun, his hand over his eyes. When he looked down again, his eyes landed on Ana.

“Alright come on,” he said, “Where to?”

Ana’s eyes were fixed on a large trunk with a deep chunk coming out of the bottom. She remembered walking past it to the road. So, she started walking forwards. Rick followed closely behind, his gun raised the entire time.

It took half an hour until Ana realized she was lost. Her body was shaking as she tried to figure out her way through the damn woods without letting Rick know she was confused. She turned left, and then right, and then left. Maybe she should go straight for a bit.

The couple stayed silent for a long period of time. Ana was quite since she was scared that she would start stuttering, and Rick wanted to let Ana concentrate.

“We lost?” Rick said after some time. Ana paused, looking around at the same trees in confusion, about to admit defeat. Her eyes landed upon a large stone, a few walkers treading around it aimlessly. Her hopes lifted, the stone was a sign of the cabin. Find the stone, find the cabin.

“Nope!” she said in a joyous voice, pointing towards the walkers. Rick cursed quietly and started walking towards the roamers, his gun now holstered and his knife raised. Though he tried to watch where he was going, his foot falling upon a dry twig attracted the dead’s attention. He sighed in annoyance, and counted four of them, all heading towards him. Ana was quickly at his side, her knife at her chin as well. Rick walked towards the closest one, easily bringing his knife to its temple and squishing it through. It fell with a thump as he faced three more. He pivoted around them, until he was closest to the stone. Ana approached the one trailing behind the rest, sinking her knife into its head. The skull cracked underneath her knife. When she raised her eyes, she saw Rick taking down yet another one. Silently competing against him, she jogged to the last walker. It was a female; her hair had fallen out almost completely. It continued strolling towards Rick, its arms open wide as if asking for a hug. He was busy pulling his knife out of the walker he just killed, his eyes focused down instead of up.

Ana took the opportunity and ambushed the dead female, pushing it onto the ground before crawling on top of it and stabbing its head a total of three times. After it ceased to move, Ana stood up and placed her knife into her waistband and looked at Rick. His face had a few speckles of blood in it, his hands coated. Ana assumed she was just the same, although her hands were a little less messy.

Ana looked past Rick, seeing the cabin a little less than 100 yards away, nuzzled near a creek and a few large trees. Rick stepped over the bodies of the dead and stood next to Ana.

“How many walkers have you killed?” he asked out of nowhere. Ana raised her eyebrows, turning her head to look up at Rick. His eyes were facing straight, surveying the cabin for any threats.

“Huh?” Ana said.

“How many?” Rick repeated.

“I don’t know.”

“How many people?”

Ana quieted, thinking. It took a second for her to respond. “A few.”

“Why?”

Ana crossed her arms. “Self defense,” was the answer she resorted to. When Rick didn’t reply, she continued the conversation. “And you? How many walkers?”

“Too many to count,” Rick chuckled, running his bloody hand through his hair quickly, finally lowering his gaze to meet Ana’s.

“And people?”

“Again, too many to count,” he said, dragging out the oo in too.

“Why?”

“To protect my group and the people I love.” His face grew grim. Ana could tell he was recalling certain death situations and wished she hadn’t asked him anything. She met his gaze with wavering eyes. He held it for a moment, his dreadful eyes looking into her brown ones. She clenched her jaw together, blinking and then looking away.

“Come on,” she whispered, starting towards the cabin. Without saying anything, Rick followed.

**Author's Note:**

> reviews and criticisms are always welcomed!


End file.
